Every Dog Has His Day
by remioromen1344
Summary: Stan visits Kyle after many years. But who is Kyle's roommate? One sided Style, established Tophlovski. Sequel to Let Sleeping Dogs Lie, but can stand alone as well.


I DISCLAIM. If I owned SP, there would be lots more Christophe in it hehe

One-sided Style. Established Tophlovski.

* * *

><p>Kyle woke up to someone knocking loudly on the apartment door. He looked at the body sleeping peacefully to his left and tried to slide out of bed as subtly as possible, glad that the visitor chose not to use the doorbell (and that his side of the bed was closest to the bedroom door so he could avoid that hidden squeaky floorboard). He looked down and realized he wasn't even in his underwear and sighed, grabbing his jeans and putting them on en route to the door. He unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open and said in shock, "Stan?<strong>"<strong> Stan looked almost sheepish. "Hey Kyle. Long time no see." Kyle just stared in disbelief.

"So, can I come in? It's freezing out here." Kyle jumped out of his stupor. "Yeah, sorry. Come on in, dude." Stan stepped in and Kyle shut the door. They both walked over to the couch and sat down, each on opposite sides. Kyle spoke softly, "Try not to make too much noise. Chris is still sleeping." Stan looked shocked and almost hurt, nodding, "Sure."

Stan finally asked after checking him out, "Kyle, did you get in a fight or something, dude?" Kyle looked embarrassed, "N-not really, why?" "You have a cut on your cheek, your knuckles are scabbed, your wrists are all bruised and scratched, you have more bruises on your chest, and your lip looks busted." Stan couldn't catch all of it, but Kyle mumbled something about "Chris." Stan looked irritated, (and not just that a girl was able to beat Kyle up). He forced a smile, "Hey, do you have a bathroom I can use? I really gotta piss, man." Kyle chuckled, "Yeah, you can use ours. It's on the right. Be careful not to wake up Chris, though. _**Not **_a morning person." Stan's smile fell slightly. "Yeah, right." As he walked past the bed, he sneaked a glance at the sleeping figure, seeing only messily spiked chocolate hair above the quilt and a hint of a slender, tanned shoulder. He wanted to curl his lip but kept walking, standing in the bathroom for a minute before flushing the toilet and running the sink. He tried to get a better look at this "Chris" as he walked by, but still saw nothing more than before.

As Stan returned, Kyle tried to work past his discomfort. "So how have you been? What have you been up to these last few years?" Stan looked at Kyle. "I've been alright. I've done a lot of thinking. Left Wendy. Moved out of South Park. Got a job." They made small talk for a few minutes before Stan got up to take off his coat and sat back down on the couch, sneaking a little closer to Kyle. "So Kyle, I came to tell you something." Kyle looked more than a little uncomfortable. "Yeah? What's that?" "Like I told you, I left Wendy. I've really been thinking hard about what you told me before you left. I think you're right, Kyle. I think I do like y—" He was cut off by a thickly accented, "Broflovski. Eesn't eet a leetle early for veezeetors?" Kyle and Stan both jumped, having not heard the intruder coming.

"Hey, not my fault, dude. I was just as surprised as you. Chris, this is Stan," Kyle said. Christophe sneered. "I know exactly who zees ees." Christophe and Stan shared a nasty look, Stan still shocked that Chris apparently isn't short for Christine. "Stan, I don't know if you remember Christophe…" Stan shook his head. "You've met him before. You remember the operation to rescue Terrance and Philip? When Cartman's fat fucking ass got him killed by guard dogs?" (Christophe cursed obscenely in French at the memory in the background). Stan looked appalled, "What? He died, man." Kyle sighed, "You dumbass, Kenny set everything back to normal. Remember?" Stan had a look that clearly stated this was all too much for him—especially when he took the time to really look at Christophe and realized he had a split lip, bruised cheek, and a dark purple bruise on his neck peeking over the collar of… was he wearing Kyle's basketball jersey?

Kyle said something to Christophe (that Stan didn't quite snap out of his thoughts in time to hear) followed by Christophe punching Kyle in the arm. "Ow, goddammit. Go take your fucking shower, asshole." Stan waited for Chris' departure. "So is he your roommate or what?" Kyle looked slightly sideways, "Y-yeah, you could say that." Stan frowned. Kyle brightened a little. "Hey, wanna play video games or something, dude?" Stan smiled. "Yeah, that sounds great."

The previous discomfort was forgotten as they battled each other in the game's arena, Stan losing terribly and pretending to be pissed. They were both laughing when Christophe came back in, Stan pushing Kyle and trying to tickle him. Christophe, despite his irritation, couldn't help but smile at Kyle's adorable laughter. He eventually interjected with, "Hey, faggot, make me some fucking breakfast." Kyle, on his back, looked up at Christophe's pseudo scowl through curly red bangs. "Whatever you say, dickhead." He rolled over and stood up, adjusting his jeans and making his way to the kitchen. "I'll be back in a minute. Stan, are you hungry?" Stan smiled sweetly, "Starved." Kyle smiled back.

Christophe looked down at Stan, who was still seated on the floor, and got a devilish smirk on his face. "Do not seenk zat I do not know why your sorry ass is 'ere, Stanley Marsh. Eet is not zat I do not feel bad for you, eet ees just zat… well, I do not feel bad for you. You 'ad your chance and you trew it away, you pussy. Kyle does not want _you_ anymore. Especially not now zat 'e's had _zees_," he said, grabbing the crotch of his jeans. "Now zat 'e 'as 'ad a real man, 'e will not trifle wees fucking pussies like you. What ees zat American saying? _'You snooze, you lose?'_" He laughed a mean, deep laugh at Stan's hurt and angry face before walking towards the kitchen and disappearing through the empty doorframe. Stan scowled and sulked and steamed and stewed. He just had to get Kyle. It's the whole reason he came.

After a minute he heard Christophe and Kyle talking. It grew louder gradually until he could make out what they were saying above the sizzling of the bacon and eggs and the roar of the exhaust fan. "What do you care, you stupid French bastard?"  
>"More zan what your opinion matters, <em>Jew.<em> At least my people are not worsless, stingy, unattractive cancers of society."  
>"Don't belittle my people, you fucking frog!"<br>"Do not call me a frog, you fucking faggot!" At this point, Stan heard a loud crash of glass breaking and stood up, ready to intervene if necessary.  
>"Don't call me a faggot, you fucking cocksucker!" This was the last line Stan heard in English. After this, they began arguing in French. (Stan was surprised to see that Kyle knew a third language).<p>

Stan heard a second glass break and what sounded like a punch. He rushed in, prepared to be the white knight, only to find the opposite of what he expected. There was Kyle pinned against the wall, wrists above his head, with Christophe pressing his thigh between Kyle's legs. His lip was bleeding from Kyle's punch, the split reopened and bleeding down his chin. He and Kyle hadn't noticed Stan's entry over the noise of breakfast being made and their arguing. Christophe said something warningly in French and Kyle spit in his face. "Arrêt! Stan est toujours là!" Christophe just grinned broadly in a way that was almost scary. He used his grip on Kyle's hands to spin him around and bend him over the nearest counter, hands behind his back, putting their backs almost completely to Stan. Stan stood frozen, unable to look away but feeling his heart clench watching.

Christophe leaned forward and spoke lowly into Kyle's ear and kissed his neck. Kyle apparently disagreed with whatever it was he said, trying his hardest to buck Christophe off of him. Christophe merely laughed again, pressing himself into Kyle and moving his hips and murmuring something again. Stan could see Kyle's head drop in defeat and heard him mutter, "Okay, fine." Christophe spun Kyle around again, picking him up and sitting him on the counter before kissing him soundly. Kyle entwined his fingers in the back of Christophe's hair and pulled as he licked the blood from his chin and sucked on his bloody lip. Suddenly, he pulled away shouting, "Ah! Mon déjeuner!" and pushed Christophe away, flipping the bacon and taking the eggs off the stove. Stan took this opportunity to slip silently away and take his place on the couch. Shortly thereafter, Christophe joined him and gestured to Stan's lap. "I see zat you enjoyed our performance, yes? Ah, eet ees such a shame for you zat you deed not take 'im when 'e wanted you. After all, eet ees true what zey say, 'Red head _ees_ fire in ze bed.' Zat Jew ees a total fuckeeng freak. And ze sings 'e can do wees 'is mouth and 'ands. 'E ees better zan any French 'ore. And zat fiery temper. Mmm. Quite ze ride." Stan's brows furrowed and his fists clenched, trying his hardest not to punch Christophe right there. The straw that broke the camel's back was when Christophe leaned in and whispered, "and because he loves me, eet ees so easy to make 'him my beetch and fuck 'im all night." Stan couldn't take it anymore and swung at Christophe, striking his nose (which almost immediately started oozing blood).

Kyle walked in just in time to see Stan punch Christophe. His immediate reaction was, "Dammit, Christophe. I'm sure you deserved it. Come here and let me reset it." Christophe frowned grumpily. "No. Fuck you. Zere is nussing wrong wees eet." Kyle set the plates down on the table and walked with irritation towards Christophe. "Stop being such a goddamned baby and just come the fuck here!" "Go to 'ell!" Kyle grabbed Christophe's hair before he could get away and yanked him back, quickly grabbing his nose and turning his hand slightly. A small pop could be heard. "AAAH! DAMMIT! YOU FUCKING FAGGOT! ZAT 'URT." Kyle glared at him. "Cry about it, you big fucking baby. Stan, here's your breakfast. I hope bacon and eggs is okay. Is orange juice alright?" Stan forced a smile. "It all sounds good."

After he finished eating, Stan deliberately glanced at the clock on his phone. "Well, it was good to see you again, Kyle, but I have to be somewhere. I'll see you around." Kyle looked a little saddened. "I'm really sorry, Stan. Feel free to call me anytime, though. I'm sorry I didn't keep in touch, but… you understand, right?" Stan nodded and pulled Kyle in for a bear hug.

As he waved goodbye, Stan saw Christophe flipping him off from behind Kyle and he scowled and walked away. He nearly smiled when he heard "Goddammit, Chris!" and a solid punch to what he could only imagine was Christophe's ribs. _'As long as he's happy, I guess.'_


End file.
